Tag Archives: freedom

lukewarm mochacchino and headaches at 7-11

Ride into the sun, ride into the sun
Where everything seems so pretty
When you’re lonely and tired of the city
Remember, it’s a flower made out of clay…

~*~

it’s been almost an entire year and then some

since the whole flock last roosted just to stay

we’ve had our cue cards and five seconds of fun

and last call of sour fries and cold waffle cakes

but now only two wasted bodies dance under

bright purple lights and the sedated aspirations

nodding heads, from the bassline, from the sleep

and from the sheer lack of plasticine inhibition

when the world is too angry, we still scream back

the past songs of the fallen, clearly left to attack

show me your secrets, then i will trade you mine

senselessly sober, these parallel lives in decline

but cough just once and we’ll have the sad truth

from stretches of lonely nights and elephant tattoos

inside the small cube you call your own freedom

rainbow sheets, cracked mirrors, limp curtains and

claw machine teddy bears protect your kingdom

it’s not much, but something is better than nothing

while i lose my shadow on concrete and let it do the talking

as time revolves unwound and with it the hopeful euphoria

along with false promises of “see you soon” and highschool drama

and somehow i feel a subtle digging tinge of irrational envy

for the things i badly want to do and yet i couldn’t really be

still stuck in all my childish drawings and untuned melodies

but peter pan, it’s time to grow up, now where’s your reverie?

a painful jolt—raging reality, and all the things i will surely miss

crash and cascade along the failed scars coating my flimsy wrists

consumerism and city blends, and chipped black nails left to gripe

old fairytales forgotten a bit too fast, falling victim to the call of life.

~*~

Where everything seems so ugly
When you’re sitting at home in self-pity
Remember, you’re just one more person
Who’s living there, it’s hard to live in the city…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Catch Fire


ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏ ᴠɪᴄᴛɪᴍ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴇᴍᴇᴛᴇʀʏ
ʀᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀɪᴠɪʟᴇɢᴇ
ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ‘ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ
ɪ’ᴍ ᴀ sᴡɪᴛᴄʜʙʟᴀᴅᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅʟɪɴᴇs
ᴀᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴀ sᴘɪᴋᴇ
ᴀ sᴘɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴇʀɴᴜᴍ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ…


bodies burn like the sunrise aftermath of the destruction

your lies caused—fractured spines ripped apart and counted

with the notches in their fingers, just a sinner’s aggravation

blindly feeding the grand delusion of pure freedom into

the prison cells rusted with blatant injustice, as you plead

for your worthless life and try to prove you’re not a stigma

you have holes under your palms and feet but you can’t

convince the world that you’re the second coming of christ

he’s fucking dead like your family, like you, like the stability

you once had before you hacked away at it with a blunt axe

from your locked toolshed—you left them all for dead, did

you leave even just one splintered breath? a single dose

of comatose or even close would have been enough for

a plea conviction, but every degree was coldly violated

you’re too violent! send the sordid sentence for electrocution

right away tonight, families will sleep a little safer and the

streets spilled with less vomit and spit, the constables

rejoice in favour of another bigger shrimp to fry—did you

even say goodbye? when the glow from their dwindling vision

flickered into the end of the tunnel that you’re chasing, how did

the liquid rose taste when you splattered the shattered mirror

trying to get it off your hands, did you really think it would stay

there forever like the devil on your shoulder? digging in deeper and

deeper, that’s why you smile so crookedly, and the steel manacles

aren’t helping with your shambling gait, either. now, look at the iron

witnesses and the tear-stained grievers and the burly man by the switch

whose teeth is a nasty shade of nicotine brown, like your last meal that

has been as bland as the bible verses of bullshit being spewed by the pastor

holy water nearly drowns you but it can’t drown out all the crying, the

blindfold’s suffocating but the disillusions inside your mind are ever

spinning, chew the rubber wedged between your mouth in agitation

don’t let them smell the fear, don’t let them know you’re here, don’t—

enough with the drama. enough is enough. enough will be the end.

and if anyone dares to ask you now, tell them just one more stunning lie,

“i don’t fucking deserve this.” famous last words, the very tail end

interrupted by one sickening jolt as the entire world lights up for your crimes

and the body of a monster finally burns away into the final sunset’s demise.


ᴄᴜʀʙ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴜʀᴇ
ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs
ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴍᴇ
ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴍᴇ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅ?


Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

b.r.a.i.l.l.e.

i am with the wind.

and the exhilarating thrill

envelops every sense,

taking my aching bones,

my hour-old bruises,

my smiling chipped teeth,

my angry brown scabs,

and lulling them back to rest,

making the pain seem like

just another pastel dream.

everyone’s just a myriad blur,

a riot of ceaseless colours

all rushing past me as

wheels bite gravel and spins

me to a whole new revolution

of a different planet in a

different existence where all

those bad memories don’t exist,

only i, and the sweat and rain

soaking the angel wings on

my back; feeling gravity

and friction and momentum

and all those ethereal forces of

the universe ensconced between

my scuffed red sneakers.

it’s all tricks and treats,

and it doesn’t matter if i fall

and eat concrete a thousand times

trying to do the same thing over again;

it doesn’t matter if i go home

always with new holes all over my

favourite jeans and jumpers

every single damn time;

it doesn’t matter if i’m being

chased away by the people who

think it’s a vagrant’s crime…

because the past and future tense

doesn’t matter when freedom

is felt right here, right now,

with me and my ride,

and i am the wind.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Oh, Ain’t That Clever? (The Hundred Dollar Profanity)

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who’s the ugliest of them all?
Severed, crawling like spiders
Injecting poison, now kill the bile spewing
The walking selfish living dead
I turn to rust and you play
In all the filth that you’ve created…

~*~

Sweet milk will still taste spoiled

If the mouth is too putrid and rotten

And barbaric words just don’t define

Someone’s being a “good” person

.

Underhanded plagues dyed the rain

With condescension and redder stains

With a wish that the cleave cuts deep

And that leather flesh will never heal

.

As judging eyes feel the need to gloat

Like skies on fire, the ashy vanity floats

Prison’s good but the abuse feels numb

All hands on them until they succumb

.

It’s fine to feel fine, the need to feel needy

And pride has never been so carelessly greedy

But freedom will still taste like putrid decay

When the body’s too bitter to feel the right way.

~*~

And when your dreams have come to end
How will you buy your happiness?
And when your self is all you have left
With what will you fill your emptiness?
You are the cause of man’s dissolving evolution
Is my heart completely useless?

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Mad Mary Lennox

I still remember the world
From the eyes of a child
Slowly those feelings
Were clouded by what I know now—
I still remember the sun
Always warm on my back
Somehow it seems colder now…

~*~

You were the tears I could never release.

I am imprisoned for centuries in an impenetrable ribcage, feeling the lemongrass harshly piercing my calloused feet but never allowing my deprived senses to take in their ethereal fragrance, holding blossoms by their fragile throats and quietly wishing for their efflorescent scarlet to return and splash colour on my filthy grey dress again, and forevermore shackled and watching the suspended horizon; but a mere intangible memory playing tricks on my open lips.

It was beautifully haunting. My demented secret garden.

You alone held the key to the concealed gates. That particular key was crudely carved from roses and bones, finely forged of romance and blood, chiseled from my consumed heart and threaded with my vulnerable veins, but akin to the overflowing ocean of the tears trapped within my tired, pondering eyes, you released me not.

But will I despair? Never. I shall merely smile at your vicious cruelty and wait for patience with all the grace and forgiveness the pallid moon has adorned me with. I’ll peacefully sleep on my bed of fallen feathers and butterfly ashes, and I shall awake again the next day, my marred body still glimmering in a breathtaking fairy tale iridescence, to tend to my own share of bruised paradise and to sing my laments to the ardent stars in the missing sky once more.

Because this exquisite garden shares my every pain, my solitary desire, my one secret, and not simply the very secrecy itself. This sanctuary is mine to hold in eternal memoriam, and in an infinite someday, these silver chains will rust off and unfetter, as the reckless revolution of this damned planet will halt and reverse, away from the sun. And when that happens, you will find yourself starving for sweet freedom and clawing at the iron bars haplessly, forever banished in my grotesque heaven, where all the scathing thorns bear your broken name and all the flowers wilt at the very despicable thought of your nonexistent soul.

And you shall weep. And I, finally, along with you.

~*~

Where has my heart gone?
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger
Oh, I, I want to go back to
Believing in everything
I still remember.

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

Grounded

We’ll dive around and never let our bodies touch the ground
And right now I’m feeling like I’ll never go back down
Till then, taking flights around the corner ends and bends
I’ll soar up higher to admire when, fly away with me…

~*~

You used to be the folded

Pastel paper aeroplane

I threw over hanging

Chandeliers and ceilings

To watch my hopes soar

Past and beyond nightmares

And my fettered inklings

But I realised that you can

Be easily carried away

By the zephyr if you wished

You’re not tethered to my

Fingers, you may do as well

As you’ve playfully pleased

And this child can only watch

In melancholia as his dearest

Papercraft friend navigates past

Weathered clouds and cool rain

As his own toes lift from the ground

But pulled by gravity, always returned

To land, away from the skies again.

~*~

Fly away with me
Try a little harder to flap your wings
High above the sea
Get a little higher, follow me…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Sans Voix

The tiny stitches

You’ve sewed into my lips

Won’t let me go

I can’t speak, I can’t speak

Flying freedom

I fathomed wrongly to have

Snatched tongue

Waywardness I seek, I seek

Of the only place

Where I am sound of mind

You’ve stifled it

Let me sleep, oh let me sleep

The single thing

That’s keeping me barely alive

You’ve hijacked

I couldn’t keep, I couldn’t keep

In melancholia

Drops of blood and respiration

And dried tears

I shan’t leak away, I shan’t leak

I vain escaping

The dark solace you have ruined

And once again

Against your poison, I’m weak, so weak…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

An Epitaph For The Celestial Marching Mercenaries Of The Final Apocalypse

The pious mercenary calling

Ivory halos bent and broken

Freedom, they were waging

With the price of lives stolen.

~faded tombstone inscription

~*~

The hooves came thundering one day, the pale blue horizon turned a foreboding scarlet

As four harbingers arrived, doing damage and causing War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death

The Ultimate Evil broke free from his fettered state, rose in power from the chains and ashes

The end was nigh, anarchy was high, until the skies opened up, and down flew the mercenaries

.

The immaculate mercenaries have come dawning upon our land today

Creating silent storms with their inexorable wings of pure liquid gold

Iridescent forms, fragile butterfly swords dipped in the blood of God

Legends from the end of a century troubadours failed to have foretold

.

Sheaths unravelling and suspended upon the silken strings of calling

Fundamental foundations on which this warring viridian planet o’er lay

For these cavalier soldiers fought and rallied against the stars falling

And saved restless cadavers from treason and potential further decay

.

Celestial hierarchy in motion, choirs of cherubim, seraphs, archangels

Sanctity of the war, exhibition like the clashing forces of moon and sun

White robed guardians arched in a delicate art of finesse, even in battle

Against the austerity of chthonic snarling demons, caliginous as they run

.

An empire of clattering bones and dripped silvery blood and carnage

Ashes choking the northeast breeze along with static crepuscular image

Stones cast whereupon heroes and kings once toasted glass in victory

The tainted lights of the sunset in a thousand days of a darkened glory

.

Holy weapons disintegrating the darkness, wield halos and hand grenades

Line after line of fiends are struck down, interlocked in a contrite parade

In the black and white of the opposed legions, thus occurred a stalemate

It seemed, for just a scintilla moment, that the better had won in this state

.

Yet when the eleventh hour struck, the stained battlefield was wrought

Half the army has gone to waste, and the other half left to fled for good

One survived, a lone figure in brutal combat, the shadows it still fought

Feathers plucked clean raining like hail, yet still, he relentlessly stood

.

Staring upon the paramount beast, standing drenched, shivering in turbid Stygian waters

Looking headlong into his glaring chaotic eyes, mocking, cackling, loathing splattered

A singular hope surged upon his severed veins, energy by grace of God’s dissemination

And with a last leap of faith and roar, he dashed past with broken wings to finish the book of revelation

.

The final frontier has been appended, and the end is a pyrrhic victory with irreparable losses

A defended vengeful side for an unknown singular cause, cost total obliteration to the masses

A valley of casualties lain like a tainted painting, from which artists dare not lay upon the canvas

With the sun burnt out, an frigid winter blanketed Gaia, and Elysium’s throne waited empty, alas!

.

Unsure of who gained the upper hand in this ordeal, a semblance of Heaven and Hell’s last swan song

In pace requiescat, a whisper carried by the last wind, bereft and morose, onto the gales forlorn and strong

And tet all that remains of this violent sordid affair is torn fragments of a yellowing parchment

Yet I tell this tale now, eulogy writ in my own quill and liquid; and I shall raise a glass, a spirit for the spirits

.

So lay a crimson rose in the graves of the bravest men, the fallen comrades, the stalwart mercenaries

Those loyal divine battalions who left paradise to purvey zealous souls against obstreperous enemies

Future hope woebegone, and may they rest in peace forevermore, for they have died, yet not completely in vain

I write this final epitaph for my beloved lost children, may their bold hearts ascend back to the kingdom of heaven once again.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Lost for the Earth (Terra Incognita)

The earth is silent yet listening, its newborn dewdrops glistening

Hear my lungs fervidly breathing, slowest softest oxygen inhaling

Smoky fog against the glass, let candy crystal dragonflies pass

Grazing against the jade-encrusted grass, insects now don’t be crass

Fabulous not emulous, elegance and jubilance destined to me

Asterisks of yellow stars, velvety chocolate skies, asterim so pretty

Fire and ice, snowcaps cover the lies, asteroids fall like blazing hail

Along chirping twirling ceaseless flying starlings and nightingales

An ocean bloom, a lonely doom, a peacock’s kaleidoscopic plume

A gossamer cloud born against the midnight morn, water kissing flume

Lost wandering and travelling yet worry not your sake unravelling

Distance is no nuisance when peaceful tranquillity is clamouring

They have come but slowly gone, lose that cynical vitriol perpetual

Bring back the rarest essences of ruby quintessence flowing elliptical

Listen to the sound of the pouring rain patter against your brain, the symphonic sheen

And bask in the glory of nature, raw and verdant orchestrating, unmuffled by clanking machines.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Vertigo Castle

I found myself trapped in Rapunzel’s tall tower

With no long blonde hair or horseback saviour

Tiptoeing downwards now, ever so softly

As not to disturb the maddening menagerie

Spiraling several sets of sistine stairways

Trying to find out a futile impossible escape

Deeper, deeper, and down further now I will go

Down into the lofty tower built to hold inferno

Worn-down melted steps from other tired feet

That also became lost and pleaded unto defeat

Corkscrewing down into the dulled darkness

Hope and truth got dizzy from such a mess

Crumbling old walls hold me away from outside

Restrain and resign my feet, locked up till demise

But I will find a way out of this endless vertigo

If I have to fall to taste freedom, then let it be so.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry